


Overture

by gryffindormischief



Series: Fresh Pickled Toad [29]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindormischief/pseuds/gryffindormischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny's not a fan of waiting around for things to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overture

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thursday (ish)! Harry & Ginny make me happy :) Hope you enjoy!

"You stay in that bed miss, or there'll be hell to pay," Molly Weasley harrumphed as she left the room in a swirl of robes.

Ginny sighed, and flopped back into the cozy pillows piled behind her back, _this is dead boring._

Heavy losses, mainly from retirement, but partially from the war meant that Ginny had been able to skate past the reserve team and start her career as a Harpies chaser right out of Hogwarts. Over the past few years, Ginny had worked hard to progressively make a name for herself on the team.

This state of affairs was what had landed the intrepid heroine in her current state, locked in her room at the Burrow, being suffocated by well meant nursing and overly fluffed blankets. _Could've at least left me something to read,_ Ginny thought as she spied an unfinished _Prophet_ crossword from Sunday and an old issue of _Which Broomstick?_ piled haphazardly on her desk, _better than nothing_. Her eyebrows furrowed in thought as she scanned the room for her wand, before noting the implement in question was _also_ relegated to the desk she was hating more and more by the moment.

_She said stay in bed, but that was only if there's no emergency…if the house burned down, she'd expect me to get up, or if there was an intruder, or if I had to use the loo, or if I was so bored I was about to die…_

With that justification in mind, Ginny reached below the blankets and poked at her injured leg, _can't feel a thing, it's only a short little walk though._ She wriggled the toes of her left leg, rolling her ankle around, and plotted her path to the desk and escape from death by tedium. Her good leg was easy enough, as it slid from beneath the sheets and her toes found the cushy green carpet that covered the wood slats that got so cold in the winter months. Using both hands, she gripped her numbed right leg and lifted it from the pillows elevating it and placed it on the bed, _so far so good._

The red-head paused, slightly dizzy, and listening for anyone who might come in to scold her for 'ignoring healer's orders,' but heard only the sounds of Mrs. Weasley beginning her preparations for dinner. It wouldn't be a full house by Weasley standards, but Hermione, George, Bill and Fleur, along with Arthur and Molly, would all share dinner around the table.

Harry and Ron had been away for a week, training in advanced undetectable tracking, since much of their job for the next few years would involve hunting down those who had escaped justice after the final battle. Up until now, Ginny hadn't had much downtime that allowed her to stew on missing Harry too badly. When she _had_ relaxed, it was late at night when she collapsed in to her childhood bed and was blissfully asleep after a long day of brutal practice, mind too numb to buzz with thoughts of her lovely future husband. Of course, Harry and Ginny were no strangers to long periods of separation, but this was different…a full on simulation of an auror mission, which meant no contact of any kind.

Ginny flipped back the covers completely and gripped her thigh again sliding over to the edge of the bed, testing her foot on the floor as she'd done with her right. As expected, the sensation was completely different, so different that there _was_ no sensation, _bloody numbing cream, bloody bludger, bloody beaters who don't listen when the whistle is blown at the end of practice._ Slowly, Ginny pushed herself up and gripped the nightstand for balance and went over her planned path mentally, _nightstand, armoire, wall, desk._

She stumbled slightly, dragging her bum leg along behind her, careful to not put any weight on the dead-feeling limb. The only problem, one that Ginny had _not_ foreseen in her eagerness, was the fact that her numb, useless leg was the one on the outside – meaning it would either be required to step forward or hold her weight while the _other_ leg did so, _lazy bum, stupid bloody…_ Unable to accept defeat, Ginny grasped her thigh again and lifted it before grabbing her foot to pull it up behind her. Quickly, she caught her balance, the strange position making herself resemble a gawky, fire-headed, freckled, flamingo, _with a numb leg_. Steeling herself, she bent her standing leg and made a small hop, bringing herself slightly closer to her next goal, _armoire armoire armoire_. Four more small shuffle jumps and Ginny had arrived at the armoire, and reached to grasp one of the yellow painted handles she'd decorated when Molly had done the rest, in an attempt to distract her from the fact that Ron had gone to Hogwarts _without_ _her._ As she slid her fingers around the wood, the handle started to unscrew. Just as her arm slipped and she toppled to the ground in a half numb heap, Ginny heard her bedroom door open, "Gin?"

The Harpy rapidly pushed herself up from the floor, mussed hair flying around her face as her head appeared over the edge of her bed, "Harry!" before she gasped, "Don't tell mum."

Harry's green eyes lit up behind his glasses at the sight of his fiancé sprawled across the floor of her room, "Someone's not following healer's orders."

"Are you going to scold me or help me," Ginny huffed, holding her arms out for Harry to lift her. The young auror moved forward and pulled Ginny into his arms, not releasing her from his embrace, as he muttered into her hair, "Missed you."

Ginny tightened her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled his chest, "Mmm, you too."

Gradually, Harry's hands slid down Ginny's back, skirting over her bum, "Oi, mum is right downstairs."

Harry snorted as he gripped her bottom and hoisted her legs around his waist, "I'm not getting handsy, miss, I'm _helping_."

Ginny laid her head on his lanky shoulder, "Well a _little_ handsy would be ok."

Squatting, Harry slid Ginny back onto her bed, " _Later_." Looking around curiously he turned back to Ginny, "What were you doing when I came in, making a break for it?"

"Trying not to die from boredom more like," Ginny snorted as she pulled herself up the bed towards the headboard.

The auror perched himself on the edge of the bed and picked up Ginny's hand, stroking it absentmindedly, "Not one for down time are you Gin?"

Dropping her head back against the wall, Ginny answered with a sigh, "Pot, meet kettle." The couple sat in silence for a moment before Ginny tugged Harry's hand and gestured for him to sit with her. After much sheet adjusting – 'oi! I can still feel _that_ leg' – and creaking of rusty bed springs, Harry was snuggled up to Ginny's side, head nestled in the crook of her neck while she carded her fingers through his messy black hair.

"So how was training?"

Harry slid his glasses off his face and tucked them into his breast pocket, "Good. Me'n Ron were tent buddies."

Ginny chuckled, "So like old times again?"

With a snort, Harry placed a light kiss on Ginny's collarbone, "Luckily _no_ , it was nothing like… _back then_." Ginny hummed in agreement and a few quiet moments passed between the couple, only the ambient sounds of the Burrow filling the space.

Just when Ginny thought Harry had dozed off, he spoke up and gestured to her injured leg, "So how'd this happen then?"

"Damn beaters who need their damn _ears_ checked – _that's_ how."

"Don't make me wash your mouth out with soap," Harry answered with false authority.

"A good _scourgify_ would do – and a bat bogey for those _wankers_ ," Ginny suggested.

"You need to get your rage under control m'dear, not good for your health."

Ginny shook her head, "Nah, Gwenog says some pent up rage is good for performance."

Harry snickered, "Good for _performance_ , eh?"

After a quick smack to the back of the head and Harry's resulting 'ow!' Ginny answered, "I can tell you've been with a bunch of aurors all week – randy buggers, the lot of you."

"Childish too," Harry put in.

"At least you're self aware."

"I'm trying to decide if I can make _that_ sound dirty."

"Disappointing, sir," Ginny murmured as she slid down to eye level with Harry, settling her head on half of the frilly pillow, "Perhaps you can make something _else_ dirty." As she spoke, she'd slipped her hand over Harry's hip and squeezed his bum.

Harry's eyes shot open from their half closed state as he gaped at her wordlessly before mimicking her earlier warning, " _Gin._ Your _mum_ is right downstairs."

"You know how she gets when she's cooking," Ginny sighed, unconcernedly kissing up Harry's neck, then nuzzling his stubbled cheek, "and I've _missed_ you."

Harry captured her lips with a groan, before Ginny pulled away and he worked his way across her cheek and to her ear, whispering, "If she comes in _here_ , Gin."

Ginny gripped the sides of his face, bringing them nose-to-nose, "I believe the only rule I was given was to stay in this bed."

"So really I'm helping…you were _breaking_ the rules before I arrived. Guess I'm always on the job, have to subdue the criminal," Harry laughed, drawing Ginny into his arms.

"Wait 'til I tell Skeeter what Kingsley replaced the Dementor's Kiss with."

Harry's chest rumbled with laughter, "You know she'd blame me. 'Boy-Who-Lived turns Auror Office into _den of fornication_.'"

"You are _quite_ the Casanova."

"So."

"So," Ginny parroted.

Harry dragged a hand through his hair nervously, "I've been thinking."

"Ooh dangerous," Ginny teased.

"I'm _trying_ to have an _adult_ conversation," Harry mock rebuked.

Ginny wriggled her eyebrows suggestively, "I can do _adult_ conversations."

"Oi! If you act like this your mum'll never let you move in," Harry burst out, before slapping a hand over his mouth, green eyes wide in panic.

For the first time in a long time, Harry had managed to render Ginny incapable of intelligent thought, _this is worse than the butter dish._ Luckily, this time, the feeling was mutual as Harry's face froze in an expression of mingled apprehension, nervousness, and a small shade of excitement, _bugger didn't mean to let that one slip, eh?_

"So, that wasn't supposed to come out like that."

Ginny widened her eyes in false shock, "You don't say."

Harry sat up, "I was planning to ask you all nice and explain how it would work – "

"Y'mean me being your kept woman?" Ginny sniggered.

"Hey!" Harry yelped, cheeks coloring in embarrassment.

Mirroring her fiancé, Ginny sat up and slid a hand to his cheek, turning his head to face her, "I'm _kidding_. I know what you mean, I think."

Green eyes sought her brown ones hopefully, "Grimmauld is all fixed up, and there's so many _rooms_ , and we can pick out a flat for _both_ of us after the wedding. Plus Hermione and Ron can be there too. And we'd sleep in separate rooms! I'm not trying to get in your – "

Ginny stopped Harry's babbling with a quick kiss, "I know, you're much too _noble_."

"Y'know some people think that's a _good_ thing," Harry narrowed his eyes playfully.

"Well they're not _dating_ you," Ginny huffed with a smirk.

Harry growled, " _Engaged_."

" _So,_ " Ginny quirked an eyebrow, "Are you going to ask me to be your housemate again or are we just going to pretend it didn't happen in the first place?"

" _Pushy_."

"I'll have you know I'm in _high_ demand –," Ginny began.

Harry broke in abruptly, "Move in?"

Ginny lunged toward Harry and held him in a tight embrace, whispering into his shoulder, "Of _course_."

Harry let out a loud whoop, before pressing his smile to hers with a contented sigh.

"I couldn't be happier," Ginny said, tucking her head into the crook of Harry's neck as he hummed in agreement.

After a brief pause, Ginny grinned, "Well, except for whenever the feeling in my leg comes back."


End file.
